Funeral for a Friend
by Fairy Friend
Summary: Fifteen years into the future, Jamie has died and everybody must pay their respects to the least liked person in the village. Join Joe, Meryl, Tim, Megan, and others in a humorous adventure as they relive... not so pleasant memories of Jamie.


**(A/N):** _Hey, guys! I'm back with another fanfic. Sorry about not working on my other fanfics, but this was just a really great idea. I can't take any credit for the idea, though; this whole thing was dreamed up by my friend, Mike-o. I did the writing of this fanfic, though... just so you don't think I'm a stealer or... anything. Yeah. (Although I blame the language on him. I don't swear, I swear it. Agh, I mean... err, I promise.) Anyway, I really hope you enjoy the fanfic and get a few laughs out of this._

**FUNERAL FOR A FRIEND**

**Chapter One – The Funeral**

"You're going, Timothy. I don't care how you felt about him. Now get dressed before we're late."

Tim sat on the bed, grouching, watching his wife, Meryl, dry her hair. She was a beautiful woman but she had a tendency to boss her husband around and could get Tim to do whatever she told him to do. The last thing in the world he wanted to do today, however, was to go and pay his respects to that son-of-a-bitch, Jamie.

"B-But honey," Tim stuttered, "I...I don't see w-why we ha-"

"Enough," Meryl said, cutting him off. She grabbed a hairspray bottle and sprayed her hair with the ingredients. "Everyone's going to be there. You can sit in the corner with uncle Danny and ogle the ladies all you want, but you're going to this funeral whether you like it or not."

Tim rolled his eyes and vented out a sigh. He knew there was no escape once his wife made up her mind. Well, at least she was right – the whole town would be there. Flower Bud Village, together, was a family, and everyone took care of each other no matter how ruthless anybody was. Getting up slowly in a manner of defeat, Tim went into the closet and looked for some suitable clothes.

He thought about how he'd first met Jamie. He was nine years old at the time and he was going to the mine to dig for treasures, as he usually did. However, when he'd reached one of the bottom levels, his foot got caught in a crack on the floor. He'd tried to squirm his way out but his foot was so badly caught that he couldn't even pry it loose. Screaming for help, Tim looked around for somebody who could help him. Finally, he saw Jamie walking down a plight of stairs. Tim waved to him for attention.

"Mister! Help me, please! I can't get out!" Tim cried helplessly.

Jamie spun around and heeded the little child's misery but instead of trying to help him he instead scoffed, amused at his pain. "Oh, get a grip on yourself," Jamie retorted. "There are a lot of people worse off than you." Ignoring the boy's pleads, Jamie dug around for the next plight and when it was found, he climbed down, leaving Tim trapped and alone. A few seconds later, though, Jamie reappeared and walked up next to Tim. He put out a hand and for a minute, Tim thought that Jamie was going to help him, but was sorely disappointed when Jamie ended up grabbing onto his bag of minerals.

"Yoink," Jamie said, snatching the bag from Tim's grasp. Tears started to swell in Tim's eyes as Jamie took off with his precious ores.

Tim had managed to free himself a few hours later but he'd learned a valuable lesson that day: never trust a man wearing a pink and purple fedora.

-----

Joe looked around the waiting room and was surprised at the turnout. He really didn't have much against Jamie but he knew that most of the people in the town didn't care much for him. His eyes wandered around the room, and they adjusted to his ex-wife, Katie. He quickly darted his eyes away. Just last year, he and Katie got a divorce because she had cheated on him with Carl. Joe could've sworn that Carl was gay, but apparently he wasn't because every Saturday, the day Katie would use as her excuse to go "somewhere", she had been "making muffins" with Carl, as Joe liked to call it. He sometimes used that term to cheer himself up.

At around this time, Meryl and Tim walked into the room and sat down next to Joe. Tim sat down glumly next to a rather pissed-off-looking Meryl, who had been so tired of putting up with him that she almost literally had to drag him into the waiting room with her.

"I can't believe how many people are here for this jackass," Tim muttered under his breath quietly, but loud enough for people around him to hear.

"Yeah, me too," Joe replied, although he was pretty sure Tim wasn't talking to him. "I thought everybody hated Jamie."

"_Hola_!" A high-pitched voice rang from within the walls.

"Oh great, it's Megan," Dan groaned. Tim and Joe groaned along with them. Next to Jamie, Megan was the least-liked person in the village. She worked at the Cinnabon farm next to the ranch and the river, and she was known for being the most annoying out of all of the villagers. She also had a tendency to be very full of herself even though she was pretty much horrible in everything she did besides farming, hence why everybody thought of her as annoying.

"Sorry I'm late, I was running a few errands," she explained quickly to nobody in particular, "but now we can commence the funeral because I've arrived. I'd like to ask everybody to get into a circle, if you will." The crowd of people rolled their eyes but did as her request willed. "Alright, who here's got something nice to say about Jamie?"

Silence filled the room momentarily as people pondered what to say.

"Um. Well, I, um... uh. He-he was a good farmer?" Lyla piped up finally.

"Uh-huh," Megan muttered languidly, conspicuously jealous that nobody there had commented on how great a farmer she supposedly was. Stupid Jamie. "And can anybody ELSE give their feedback on how Jamie affected your lives?"

"Uh, Jamie shipped like, a ton of milk and eggs, which helped out my totally cute cake café," Carl threw out. _Straight mother-fucker_, Joe thought to himself.

The whole room remained silent at that point on. It seemed as though minutes had passed as everybody looked around and remained mum, waiting for the next person to mention something "honorable" about Jamie. Megan cleared her throat impatiently followed with a petulant sigh.

"Well, since nobody else has anything to say, I'd like to take a moment to read a poem I've dedicated to Jamie. It's called 'Rise and Rise Again.'" The crowd contained themselves from not groaning. Tim fidgeted in his seat. Meryl stomped on his foot.

"_Rain, rain, pours its way to the lowest parts of the Earth._

_This is where you, Jamie, rest tonight. And forever you may rest._

_I hereby bequeath my heart to you._

_Thou shalst remain benevolent in Heaven. You were the best._

_Tears, tears, seep their way from the eyes of the clouds._

_Like grieved and dismal acquaintances attending a funeral. Like me, like you._

_I can only anticipate a happy morrow._

_Someday thy clouds will vacate. And the sky will once again be blue."_

Duke attempted to stand up from his wheelchair, annoyed at the horribly-written poem. "Let me say just one thing: SHUT UP!" He shouted, his voice shaky. "Jamie was a bastard and everybody in this room knows it!"

Megan's mouth nearly fell to the ground. She glared at Duke for interrupting her wonderful poem.

"Yeah, can't argue with that. The jackass left me down at the bottom of the spring mine and took my sack of minerals," Tim added. Meryl glared mercilessly at him.

"Oh, thank GOODNESS somebody said something," Ray grunted. Ray had become quite a grumpy old man, even though he wasn't that old. "That twit poisoned my favorite fishing spot. As far as I'm concerned he can rot in hell." Ray then downed a shot of whiskey.

"_Sacrebleu_," Henry added with a heavy French accent. "Jamie's dog with the mistranslated name, he peed all over my masterpiece! What a _nincompoop_! Ah, but _c'est la vie_..."

It looked like Maria's husband was about to add a story about Jamie, but Maria hushed him. After a short, uncomfortable pause, Megan spoke up again. "Yeah, that's enough _stories_ for now."

"Yes, I do believe we've gone overboard on our rather vitriolic comments," Maria added in quietly, pushing her glasses up to her tiny nose. Everybody looked around the room in embarrassment at one another.

"Thank you, Maria," Megan cut in curtly. "Now if you don't mind, I'd like to take this time to sing a song that I made for Jamie." She sat down in an empty chair and took the guitar out of its case. "I call this one 'Visions of Light'." She plucked the strings and tuned it a little bit, then strummed the guitar with an off-key chord.

"_Once upon an ancient dream,_

_Sooner now than it may seem,_

_A friend of ours did pass away,_

_Into the dirt now he will stay..."_

That did it. Groaning, the entire crowd of people got up from their seats and left the room one by one, leaving Megan as she was still singing.

"Wait, you guys, I didn't even get to the best part yet!" Megan called out to everybody. Nobody answered. Left feeling unsatisfied, Megan packed her guitar away and headed out the door, her head hanging.


End file.
